And I was there - А я был там
by Streloc
Summary: The stalker reached the fabled Wish Granter and looking into its shimmering depths. He felt it call. He felt it cry. He came all this way. He wouldn't waste it. He lowered his rifle, put in some gusto, and said, "I want redemption." His words echoed in the sarcophagus. They dawned on the only remnants of the city that was before. Pripyat heard his cries. And they crawled forth.
1. The Last Stalker

"Sure, wizards have magic. There's a Wizarding World, whatever. Believe, and the world is your oyster. We have it different. The Zone is both the Wizarding World and Hogwarts to us; it teaches and we learn. It has a magic everyone can see,"

He twisted a bolt in his hand.

Somewhere, a number turned down.

"I don't understand your dependence on magic. You have your wand everywhere you go. You can't tell me you don't feel it," WP regarded her curiously.

"Wands break, and we can't use magic after that," She replied quietly as a mouse.

"Mm. You can take a Stalker out of the Zone, but you can't take the Zone out of a Stalker,"

He bared his arm for her to see a faint yet bold tattoo. "Even if I were to never see it again, I know how it felt and how it feels. It's a part of me like my arms and legs. Nothing can take that from me."

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"You don't know the Zone! You don't know what it's become!" Strelok protested angrily.

"'When a man thinks of the past, he hecomes kinder. The main thing, is that you must believe.'" The younger quoted.

He blinked.

"I knew something about you was familiar. There can't be two of us. The world would be better off without snakes, just as it would riflemen."

"Despite what it is, it's still the Zone, Strelok. It still has the Room."

"But do people believe?"

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Scattered raindrops fell and turned fields into swamps. Storm clouds paraded their reign and seemed to control the sky completely. The wind blew and howled. Animals shrieked. Hail rained down on them, clunking on leftover cars and houses.

"The Zone is angry," Harry remarked from his position near the bridge.

"Why do we have to cross this bridge?" Xenia wondered from beside him as she adjusted in her dream.

"What do you want, Xenia?" Harry asked randomly.

"Wait! Why am I here? I was with Hermione." He outbursted suddenly and looked down at her.

She grinned. "Your experience with her is over. Now you must help the girl I'm emulating. When I release my control, it'll be her, not me. But I'll still be in the background, don't worry, Harry."

"What's your name?"

"Veronica." She faded in a sense he couldn't accurately describe.

"What do I want? I'm not sure. Not being where I am now would be nice. Or Var, for that matter."

"Var?" He wondered.

"Prison," She informed lightly.

"Why?"

"I don't know." At his surprised look, she added, "I really don't, I can't remember anything," Xenia blushed out of embarrassment.

"I'm not sure what I want, Harry. It's a hard question. What do you want?"

He raised an eyebrow. "You know my name?"

"Lucky guess. What do you want?"

He shifted.

"I want to help people. I'm a Stalker." He parroted.

"What do you want _for yourself_?" She enunciated.

"Companionship. A family. Love." The last Potter returned darkly. "What about you?"

"I want to be left alone and live somewhere other than a cell."

He tied a bandage to a bolt and handed it to her with great patience and care. "Keep it, it's yours."

"What happened to not tying them yourself? It's mine?" She took it in the same manner he had presented it with: both hands at both ends, slow moving, full body turning.

"This is different. We'll see. Keep the bandage clean. You'll need it later. And for God's sake, don't throw it,"

The two crept over the narrow bridge, tossing and marking places as they went. Hansel and Gretel came to Harry's mind. He smiled at the memory. The last Stalker took the moment to examine his Passenger, dreamscape or not. Her long hair swayed in the wind alongside her grim yet determined expression. Was she his legacy?

All of a sudden, he didn't want to be there in the slightest anymore.

"Don't throw one over the side," Harry warned. She rolled her eyes as if to say, "Why would I?" He half expected her to stick out her tongue. The trek lasted for hours. Sometimes they would take breaks, sometimes they'd keep on until the girl swore her soles would wear out. It all depended on how the Stalker felt. He seemed too young for her. At times, she felt like a kid in their backyard playing with toys! Next she'd have to imagine a horrific black dragon flying over the hills, or a thousand hungry, bloodthirsty rats...

Xenia sighed and paused mid-throw. "How can you Stalk so young?" Her voice almost faltered. His eyes grew dark. "We won't talk here. Still have the bolt?" She nodded to confirm and their journey soon went from day to night.

The bridge shore underwent a rapid change of scenery with it's sand and metal to an array of old and scattered buildings. The ground became cold and rocky. A deep ache began in her feet. Looking over, she couldn't tell what he felt. It was like the strange boy was made of statue.

"Stop here," He waved a hand behind himself. "Look up!" Harry whispered with joy.

The stars swept across the midnight atmosphere with a flourish rarely noticed. They twinkled and spun in the sky. "What do you want, Xenia?"

Her mind went blank, staring at the world before her. Her body performed on auto-pilot, giving no response whatsoever. Her mouth hung agape.

"I-" What did she want? In a flash, she decided. What she desired was something most people took for granted. It was a wonderful ability of expression and personality. It could be her everything. What was she, in the real world? She sat in a blank white room and answered questions from someone she didn't know. A tsunami of emotion washed over her. She couldn't do one of the things she dearly wanted. She couldn't say "thank you" to a cashier clerk that wished her a good day. She couldn't read. Oh, how Frank tried. He tried so much, it boggled her. They even brought in custom newspapers! He explained the words as she felt them with her fingers. She didn't understand. Would she ever? Hot tears rushed down her cheeks in a silent rain.

"I want to see, Harry. I want to feel the rain on my skin and hear the birds chirp in the morning and see a sunrise and a sunset.

I want to talk! I want to hear and say and do everything! I want to be normal! What are those things up there, Harry? What do they do? I've never been outside. I've never... I..." She whipped her eyes to meet his and she reached over and clung to him.

"Please don't leave. I used to want to be alone in my cell. I don't want to be alone anymore! Don't leave me here! You're my only friend. You've only ever been nice to me. I don't want to wake up, I don't want to go!" With a cry she buried herself in his chest, and he held her, looking up to the stars for relief only his deceased mentor could give. 'What do I do, Strelok?' He patted her back and ran his fingers through her hair slowly in a repetitive motion. Her pleas of "I don't want to go" and "don't leave me, Harry" grew more and more weaker.

After a while, the tears stopped and she felt cinched.

"Will it ever end?" She asked.

"What?" He replied quietly.

"Wanting this."

Harry swallowed deeply. "I uh, I don't think so, Xenia." He smiled sadly, only to be unseen. The hug became a cradle, only to be her warm quilt of daydreams, stolen by cold winds of reality.

The lone Stalker without his Apprentice closed his eyes. As he drifted off, he wondered. How did she know his name?

How did she know he was a Stalker?


	2. Student and Teacher

Xenia gasped as she awoke in the room. She was incredulous they even gave her time to shower, let alone sleep, seeing as she didn't have a bed or mattress, or a blanket for that matter. She had the cold, hard, emotionless floor. It was a horrible way to rest at night, or whenever she managed to pass out in the uncomfortable position.

Frank was utterly relentless in his visits. He brought her pictures of things she didn't know, things she had to ask about. What is this? A streetlamp. What is that? That is the color black. What is color? It was remarkable that the old man didn't lose his patience over the childish questions. Maybe he found a sort of irreplacable innocence in them. Whatever the case, their weekly routine never came to a halt. It was a grind for both of them, and oftentimes she had to restrain herself from asking for things totally unrelated to the topics. What is that? Coffee. What does it do? It wakes you up. Could I have some?

Hygiene was a foreign concept to the isolated girl in that regard. Sure, she showered and dug under her fingernails and scrubbed away at her body. But she had no idea of germs, or that drinking after a stranger was usually a bad idea, especially in this instance. Xenia was, for all intents and purposes, a child, in all but the physical realm. Dreams were her escape. She liked that place, whatever it was, in her dreams. She liked anywhere as long as it wasn't _here_.

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Harry began to do something he hadn't done for a long time. He took a walk. Of course, it probably wasn't the best thing to do, not here, but he had faith in his abilities. It gave him time to think, time to ponder. What else did the boy have to do? He only talked with two people; one wasn't even real! If he wasn't dead, he would swear she was nothing more than a hallucination. "Guardian angel, my ass," He muttered to himself.

"Did you need something, Harry?" Veronica popped up in front of him, out of nowhere.

He jumped a fraction. "No," And he walked off.

"Actually, yes," He did a 180 and changed his mind. "What is the Zone in the future?"

She smiled knowingly. "It's very complicated, Harry. If I show you, you won't be here for a long while. Xenia will have to fend for herself. Keep in mind, if you die there, I can't get you out, since you weren't supposed to ever be there. Got it?"

Harry nodded. "Let me think on it." It was a pretty substantial sacrifice he would have to make. Know what happens in the future, or help a sheltered, deaf girl that had no idea of language that may as well be blind?

"How long?" He wondered.

"A week. Remember, Zone time moves faster, about two or three seconds to our seconds. Don't dilly-dally. Once I do this, we won't be able to talk for a bit. We aren't supposed to do this sort of thing." Her eyes sparkled mischeviously.

"Then why are you doing it?" He looked past her toward some point in the distance.

"I feel something special might happen."

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"What do I do, Xenia?" Together, they gazed at the twinkling stars. It became a pasttime for the duo, one neither would complain about. Harry made sure it didn't take away from reasonable distance on the trip. You never know when you have someone new to ferry.

"Is it important to you? I'll be okay here. It's only a week, right?"

The poorly-dressed shell of a Wizard looked over to her. "I might not come back."

She blinked. "What do you mean?"

"I'm not really supposed to be there in the first place. It's a long story, and it's also hard to explain." He said distractedly.

She crossed her feet and put her arms behind her head as a cushion against the rocky and hard terrain.

"Can I come with you?"

Harry sighed. He knew she'd ask. He also knew it would be crushing for both of them when he replied. The beforehand knowledge, however, didn't stop his heart from sinking.

"No, I'm sorry. It's dangerous even for me. Don't worry, if you're lucky I might bring back something!" The forced enthusiasm made his voice seem dry.

"Just come back, Harry."

The use of his name reminded him.

"How do you know my name? Rather, my name _and_ the proper title?"

The lovely blond suddenly looked perplexed beyond all doubt. "I'm not sure. But I like it! It's a nice name, Harry." She smiled meekly, a mild flush rising.

"Are you sure? About me going? Nobody else talks to you, right?"

"Nobody nice, no." He frowned.

"Alright," He sighed tiredly. "I'll set up in the morning. For now, let's find a few more constellations! That right there is Orion's belt, the three stars in a line, and that over there is..."

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"Veronica!" Harry cupped his hands to his mouth and shouted at the top of his lungs to no-one in particular. He still enjoyed being an ass.

"You really don't have to shout, I'm right here. Actually, I'd prefer it." She said, somewhat miffed from behind him.

"You'd prefer if I shouted?" Harry goaded.

"Yeah, it makes my day. I love when guys scream my name."

A blush crept over his cheeks.

"I talked to her. She's fine with it. Let's go."

"We can go now. Ready?"

A kaleidoscope of colors upset his vision and buzzing invaded his hearing. What year was it? Tall grass sprung up in front of his eyes. Fat raindrops fell from the sky as dark clouds moved in fast.

Almost immediately, a downpour began. In the distance, a truck engine roared. Harry shielded his face with a hand and watched the truck speed toward him. He was careful to remain out of sight, just in case. Who knew who was inside? But why was there a truck in the Zone? There were anomalies!

Whoever drove didn't appear to be deterred by the absymal conditions as they made their way down the cracked and broken road. Just then, a lightning bolt hit the heavy vehicle in the blink of an eye, and it rolled end over end multiple times before finally resting in the grass. Bodies flew out of the bed before landing roughly.

How does a bolt of lightning hit a truck? He was forgetting he was in the Zone. Cautiously, he made his way towards the overturned truck, watching everything around him. With every inch, he scanned the nearby area for movement. His boots made a squelch as he moved through the muddy mixtures of grass and puddles.

One week. Seven days. What would he do in seven days? He needed information. The old-fashioned Stalker pulled the body out of the cab and searched the red uniform for anything of interest. There were four corpses in total. None of them had anything special, apart from one that looked familiar. With a gasp, he noticed who it was. Strelok! Harry flung his motionless body over his shoulder and ran to a nearby run-down house.

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He groaned as light and sound filled his senses. His head rang and his vision swam. Yet he managed to come to, and make his way throughout the minorly collapsed house. The amnesiac noticed a person asleep near a small fire that still smoked. At a closer glance, they looked young.

The middle-aged man bent down and shook them awake.

"Hey! Who are you? Where am I?"

'What do I do?' Harry thought to himself. 'Do I tell him the truth? What his name is, where he is? Do I answer his questions truthfully? Or do I lie and feign ignorance?

Whatever I do, it won't end well for me...'

He licked his lips and coughed. "My name is Medved, at least around here. Where you are, I'm not sure. We're in the Zone, I know that much, but I don't know exactly where."

The man nodded complacently and began to ruffle through the shelter for whatever he could get his hands on, as neither of them had a weapon and it was naturally his first instinct. However, he came up with nothing but a few old matches that wouldn't even start. He wasn't sure whether or not to trust this person, but at least they answered.

He ran a hand across his forehead in an attempt to ease the aching pain. "What is my name?"

Harry sat up in a crouch and tried earnestly to get the fire going again. "The locals know you as Strelok. As for your real name, I've no clue. Toss me one of those matches, please."

The sun eventually rose after a few hours, and with it, the dangers of the night slunk away to their caves and burrows. From the road, Harry spotted a man in a long brown coat heading towards the wrecked truck.

"Strelok!" He waved his former teacher over and pointed.

"Should we talk to him?"

"We can't do much else," It was decided. The two would confront the man. As they got closer, their footsteps tipped him off, and he leveled his shotgun in their direction.

"Stalkers? What do you need?" He asked after seeing the suit Strelok wore from the night before.

"Where are we?" Strelok asked. Harry remained silent and watched the nearby brush move with the wind.

"You are in the Cordon, a move by the Ukrainian government to keep people out of the Zone. Doesn't seem like it worked too much... you don't look very good, either of you. Do you need a place to stay? Go see Sidorovich, he always needs helping hands. Pass the bridge, either find vodka for the patrolmen, or go through the Electro-tunnel. After that, follow the road, and you'll find a small village. He'll be there."

"Thank you! Be careful out there." Strelok wished the man good luck and they set out on their journey.

"Oh, I almost forgot! Here, take these," The friendly Stalker turned around and handed Harry a Makarov and a package of bolts. "You'll need some protection."

"I'll repay you somehow. What is your name?" He asked.

"Astrologer. Don't worry about it, I like to help rookies."

"Mm. Good hunting," He wasn't sure which of them should have the fairly worn pistol. Harry liked to think he was a good shot on his own, but then again, he didn't invade the CNPP with four other guys. So he handed the small firearm to Strelok and they began to search their surroundings, with Harry looking and Strelok covering.

The amnesiac didn't think it was the best idea with the head the way it was at the moment for him to handle a gun, but he didn't complain. It was better than nothing.

"It'll probably be a bit of a hassle to bribe the army, so we'll just go through the Electro-tunnel."

"Electro?" Strelok wondered aloud.

"Assume it's an anomaly," Harry grinned sheepishly as he remembered. "Anomalies are by definition something that defies nature. In this case, they're deadly. It's hard to explain. Watch what I do."

He took out a bolt and lamented the fact that he couldn't tie anything to it. That just meant he had less of a chance.

"This is what Stalkers use to get past anomalies," He said as they approached the mouth of the tunnel. "Stalkers being people in the Zone."

"Take a few," He offered bolts to his new student, finding irony in the situation. Their roles had switched, with Harry as the teacher and Strelok the clueless pupil. "Don't waste them. I have no idea what the prices are for them here."

"Crank your arm back," Harry narrated his actions. "Aim for the anomaly, and throw!"

The Electro anomaly showered the narrow tunnel in sparks when it met with the piece of metal, before going back to what it was doing before, as if it never happened.

"Keep back though, you don't want to hurt yourself. Look for a pattern."

Together, they sat and waited. After long minutes, Harry discovered that the anomaly (anomalies?) would flicker on and off, from one end to the other and back again. This gave them a narrow window to run through. He waited until Strelok noticed himself.

"Find anything?" He threw a bolt to double check his theory.

"It looks like it... repeats?" Strelok's eyebrows furrowed.

"You're close. Stay right behind me. Usually you want to tie your bolts with something, so you can get it back. I didn't have anything this time, but remember that."

They sprinted through the tunnel. Harry jumped onto a nearby pipe with his companion hot on his heels. Distant barking could be heard along with the foreshadowing crackle of the Electro anomalies.

On the other side of the tunnel sat a long truck without a trailer attached. Around it was a small group of dogs without fur. Their bodies shone with blood and they growled menacingly.

"Make your shots count, he didn't give us ammo!"

And the legendary amnesiac did. All it took were four shots, each fatal. How he did it, Harry wasn't sure. If you ask him, Strelok probably wasn't either. Granted, it did take him time to adjust to their individual speeds and the fact they were moving, but he managed.

They heard gunshots ring out from the bridge and shied away quickly before any unwanted attention came their way. Harry adjusted his coat and shook it, hoping it would dry relatively soon. It was still drenched from the rain.

Reaching the quaint village at last, teacher and student noticed that nobody there would talk to them. One guard nice enough to actually acknowledge them told them to visit the bunker in the back, which they did. Descending the steps, faint music was heard.

Strelok knocked on the heavy door before realising the music was coming from inside and pounded harder so that they could hear. Seconds later, the music was turned down to a more agreeable level, and a voice said, "Come in!"

A fat, old man greeted the two of them with a smile while he leaned back in his chair and darted his eyes to the computer screen. A fan ran in the background. Overhead lights flickered in the backroom.

"New faces. Need a job?" He crossed his fingers together and looked up.

"We were hoping for information," Harry requested softly.

"Information? Depends on the subject," Sidorovich was interested.

"What year is it?" The Wizard-turned-Stalker intoned.

"You time travelers? It's 2012." The trader's eyes crinkled.

Harry looked at Strelok mystically. "Yeah, I guess we'll need a job. Something not too rough, we're new."

"Not too rough, hm? Take this PDA and go to these coordinates. I need a certain artifact, it's called Nightshade. Here, one of you can carry this container. When you get the artifact, put it in there, and you'll be fine. Understand?"

"Well enough. Got any bandage strips?"

"I should, let me check. Don't ask for things like this often, I'm generous but I'm not _that_ generous." He handed Harry a spare roll of bandage and they left to go towards the garbage dump.

Almost tripping over an exposed root, Harry turned to give Strelok the PDA and the bandage roll. "You handle this, let's see if you understand bolt-throwing."

Strelok had a sour look on his face. "I'll try my best, sir!" He saluted mockingly. "Yeah, whatever."

Unfortunately (or fortunately) for Strelok, they made it to the little camp unharmed. Harry searched through the leftover box and grabbed anything valuable while Strelok traversed his way through the anomaly field and looked for anything artifact-y. Squinting his eyes, the old rookie spotted something flashing by a particular sediment dump.

"I found the Nightshade!" He called over his shoulder before cradling the artifact against his chest and rushing back.

Harry tossed it in the aluminum container before slamming the lid and motioning for him to follow down the hill. "Great, but you forgot to tie your bolts. B-, better luck next time!"

Without any warning, the older man shoved Harry and sent him head over heels, flying down the hill before coming to rest at a tree stump. While Harry recovered from his wounded pride, the amnesiac hauled ass back to the bunker with the Nightshade.

"You're truly despicable," Harry insulted when he finally stumbled back.

Strelok grinned and they went in together.

"I'll give you 500 rubles for it, seeing as I provided you with equipment and coordinates. Basically a fetch job, but I'm not complaining, and you shouldn't either. Fair's fair. Wanna see my deals? I just got a shipment in."

With the 500 they obtained, the duo bartered and haggled (even when Sidorovich expressly said not to!) over prices. 160 went for 9x18 rounds, 40 for breadcrumbs, 100 on bolts, and they decided to pocket the remaining 200 for a rainy day.

"Why 100 on bolts? You never know. What if you get stuck somewhere? Don't question me, I saved your ass!" Harry rebuked with humor.

Finding an empty room in a house from the village, the two sat and created a halfway decent fire and covered up holes in the walls and cold doorways. Strelok immediately drifted off next to the flame, but Harry stared off into the stars from a grimy window. It was old, too. The kinds that were made with thicker tops and smaller bottoms. Harry wasn't sure how he knew that, but shrugged.

The boy wondered how Xenia was faring. Though she said she would be okay by herself, he really doubted it. A week all alone, especially with the way she is? Getting interrogated, having no decent bed, getting food sent in from the door-flap? It was no way to live. Harry swore he would do something, somehow. He's in the mortal world now, right? Maybe he could talk to Veronica...

The fire hissed and spat, and soon it brought Harry to sleep as well. He curled up alongside the old chimney and black dreams surrounded.

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Xenia sat at the table in inner turmoil.

 **:can i have a proper room, Frank?:**

He frowned and signed back after a moment.

 **:well, you _have_ answered our questions so far. i'll see what i can do, Xenia.: **

She smiled. A few stubborn freckles showed, contrasting with her pale skin and light hair.

 **:thank you!"**

He left shortly after, ending their usual weekly session.

She hoped Harry was okay, in that place he went, that Zone. She didn't understand what he saw in it. If it's so dangerous, why go? But on the other hand, she also understood the beauty. He had his own Zone here! Why go, and leave? And for an entire week! Who would she talk to now?

The girl sighed and put her thoughts to rest.

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"Strelok, get up. We have to talk to Sidorovich." The man groaned in his slumber.

"Get up, damnit!" He half-heartedly kicked at him.

"Medved? What? What do you want?" He asked before turning away towards a wall and falling back asleep seconds later. The sounds of his snoring could be heard from miles away, Harry reckoned. Well, he didn't need Strelok. The boy left the house and waved to other early-rising Stalkers on his way to meet the overweight trader.

"Sidorovich! Are you awake?" Harry shouted and hoped it would get through the heavy bunker door.

"Yes, come in."

He entered, and a musky smell entered his nostrils. "I'm sorry, but I can only trade at the moment. It's a bit too early for any jobs. Come back later if you don't need anything. Come to think of it, I should put up a sign." The man said to himself.

"Ah, alright. Thanks!" Since the trader didn't have anything, he could always ask one of the other rookies. They've probably lost something or other at some point, or need a buddy rescued. 'Rookies...' Harry sighed.

"Got any work?" He asked, approaching one of them standing near a broken-down house.

The Stalker scowled and chambered a bullet. "Yes actually. My friend lost his PDA by the bridge. Apparently, the captain overlooking the position didn't take a liking to the vodka I gave him. He didn't like Cossacks! Can you believe that? It was 90 proof too!" His cleaning of the weapon became slightly aggressive as he explained.

"Where, exactly?"

The Stalker clarified. "You know the sniper post with sandbags directly over it? It's in front, by the ridge. Get me it, and I'll give you this." He gestured to the AK-47 he held possessively.

"Ammo?" Harry pushed a bit further.

"Of course! What do you take me for, a Bandit?"

The audible capitalization of the word led Harry to believe it held a significant plot point.

"Great, I'll be back."


	3. Credible Affinities

It had only been about half a day since Harry entered the physics-defying place known as the Zone. And in the future close to 20 years, at that. It wasn't enough for significant advances in technology, but Harry still never got the chance to grasp what a PDA was. A handheld, mobile computer? A digital compass? A futuristic telephone?

He shook his head and tried to clear his thoughts. He wished he was back in _his_ Zone, not this miserable place, what it became. Or becomes, he supposed. There shouldn't be fighting in such a marvel. There should be peace. What has the world turned into in 20 years? How could it happen, especially here?

Harry didn't want to even use a weapon. He was disgusted. The Stalker couldn't get it out of his head. Oh, how he could use Writer or Professor right about now... The young man didn't want to be here. He wanted to go back, to see Xenia, to stare at the night sky every evening of his life with no cares in the world. Why did it come to this?

He shook his head and gathered his merit, before grasping the gun with a sudden display of resolve he himself didn't feel. He trusted nothing. How long would 7 days be in this place?

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Xenia threw an expired can full of rotting goods at the nearest highest place she could. It bursted and splattered into pieces. It had been 3 days since Harry left. The only person she knew, that she proceeded to cry on in a matter of minutes. It was no wonder the boy left. He probably felt a multitude of things he couldn't explain, much like she did. They hardly knew each other and she poured her heart out to him. It wasn't her fault! It wasn't. He was the only person she really knew. He taught and showed her things with patience. Because of Harry, she learned that there was a universe, and that it was full of beautiful things. He had pointed out different types of plants and foliage while they walked, to her excitement.

It was wonderful! He even got her to dance one time.

"Hey, come here really quick." Harry said, peering up to the angry clouds. "Xenia!" She sat, transfixed with a petal from a purple and blue flower. "Oh, sorry," She walked up to him. "What do you want?"

He pointed with a long, bony finger. The first heavy drops fell on them. She shrieked as if hurt. "It's just rain." He exclaimed with a laugh. "Here, let me show you something." She hesitated and didn't move, fear apparent on her face.

"Come on, it'll be fun!" He urged her. A waiting smile laid on his mouth. "Put your hand here, and your other hand here, and move with me."

Xenia looked confused. "What is this?"

"I'll tell you after, just try it first." Their movements were awkward at first, as neither of them really knew what they were doing. Harry, from his childhood, and Xenia from her inception. But soon, the couple got into shape and were laughing together. "Wait, stop!" Xenia interrupted. Her long hair was tangled in a mess from the action. "What is this emotion?"

"Happiness?" Harry guessed, somewhat puzzled. "What does it feel like?"

She blinked. Her deep blue eyes watched the fat raindrops fall. "I... I don't know. It's nice, but I don't know how to describe it. Like a... good feeling in my stomach."

"Well, you were laughing." Harry pointed out. "That's probably it. Laughing means you're having fun!"

He stuck out a hand in her direction. "Come on, get up. Get up, we're going again!"

"Why?" She said quietly.

"What do you mean 'Why'? For fun! Why else?"

The girl leaked something from her eyes. They made her feel like she was having fun, like she was enjoying herself. Was she?

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A month had passed in the future Zone. Veronica said she was coming after the first week? What the fuck happened? Did he do something wrong? In that time, Strelok and Harry marched upon the Agroprom military base and took the documents, completing the important mission from Sidorovich. They made their way to the 100 Rads Bar. Something from his memory made Strelok remember that name, or rather, why it was called that. "100 Rads. Around 350-400 Roentgens are when people show signs of radiation sickness." He parroted unstoppably. "100 for another conversion, rads. Not fatal."

"How do you know that, Strelok?" Harry was morbidly curious. The two strutted past the Duty checkpoint and into the building. It held a guard suspended on catwalk above them, scanning the new entries carefully.

Harry felt unease. Strelok felt a mixture of emotions. His face turned grim.

The various loudspeakers around the old factory blared menacingly. "Deadly anomalies, dangerous mutants, anarchists and bandits! None of them can stop Duty from it's triumphant march to save the planet!"

Looking for the Bar, Strelok noticed a gap of letters that apparently hinted towards it, as he got Harry's attention and headed that way.

4-26-1986-4-26-1986-4-26-1986-4-26-1986

"At the same time, I want to be normal too," Harry fell solemn. "But I don't want to be normal either. Hearing, seeing, touching, whatever, it's beautiful, but my colors are fading and my hearing aid is finicky." He laid on the ground and turned away from her. "It'll change your life, one way or another. A breath of fresh air, I guess." He became choked. "I don't want to be here! Get me out of this fucking place! I can't take it. Who are you to say what you want? The world is not a happy place. It's worse than this. Your prison is a utopia. I don't want this paradise, not here." He closed his eyes.

Arms encircled him from behind. And there they laid.

"Look at this, Harry." He did. There she was, with a wondrous white butterfly fluttering softly on her fingertip. She watched it curiously and it lifted off, flying to heights unknown. "Look. Nature goes on, despite us. Hear your crickets. Hear the woodchippers and see the grasshoppers. There's life here, Harry. There's life here!"


	4. U-235

He awoke suddenly as something wet and mushy was thrown into his face. Mud, as he soon found out. What a way to get up. "You've always talked with Writer. With Writer and Professor. You never talked to me. I think it's time we talk."

Harry sat up. He felt cold. Uncertain. Distant. He fixed his clothes hoping to get a bit of warmth out of it.

"Porcupine? No, no, no! That doesn't make sense! Strelok said... Porcupine hanged himself. He got rich and hanged himself. He wanted his brother or some relative to be healthy again or recover from something, I don't know, but his true desire was to be rich. So he goes to the Room and it kills him." Erratic breath left his lungs.

Stalker's lips thinned. "What did you say? Strelok? I never said I was Porcupine."

His mind was a whirl. Things were insane. What was happening? Where was Strelok? Strelok's mentor was Porcupine, right? Did Strelok lie to him? Who was he, really?

"Hey, wake up!" Harry was shaken abrasively by the man. Where was he? "What is your name?"

He grinned cheekily. "I don't give out names on a job. No Stalkers do. We lose our names here."

"How do you know about Strelok? Oh, and that's another thing. Why do you want to talk to me? Voldemort's dead, or close to it. I handed out the artifacts he gave me, all six. He, himself, is dead. There are no loose ends. What could you possibly want from me?"

"I gave him those six artifacts. It was what one of my clients gave me. An older fellow, sure, but just as optimistic and bright as the rest of us. He walked into a local bar we were situated in one time and announced that he wanted to make the world happy. And that he would. A week later, he comes back with tons of rocks in his pockets. He handed them out to everyone and kept going until he was out in the streets. I still have one." A metallic rock glistened from within his hand. "It doesn't seem to work for me anymore. Maybe it's an innate metaphor for life and the stars? Do I have it all figured out? Do I need it anymore? Maybe not. I don't know," He shrugged. "But I keep it for a rainy day. For when my occasional Writers and Professors decide to go all the way to the entrance of the Room, and not go in."

A thought occured to the Stalker. At least, it appeared that way. He looked as if he wanted to say something, but held back. A moment of silence passed.

Above them, the rickety telephone lines swayed in the wind. The trees followed suit. Bushes and leaves danced little half-dances. The sunshine glimmered through the little pockets of branches onto the forest floor. It was a new day.

"You know what?" Stalker piped up. "Here," He fished the rock out of a trouser pocket. "Take it."

Harry waved a feeble hand-gesture. "No, I'm alright. Besides, you don't go into the Room. The least I can do is not abuse your little rock. I didn't use the other six. Well, I gave them away, but that's another thing."

Stalker insisted. "I'm old. Fewer and fewer people make the trip out here anymore. Nobody wants to see the Zone. Nobody believes. Do you?" His eyes shone within the sunrise fog.

Weak and bandaged fingers held the artifact out. "Please."

Harry sighed and took it. "Wonderful," Stalker smiled happily. "At least someone is still faithful. Now, you know how I said something about a talk? It'll be a little more than that."

"What do you mean?"

"Well, I'll answer your question with a question: What did Strelok teach you?"

Harry scoffed. Arrogantly? He hoped it didn't come off that way.

"How to stalk. How to be sulf-sufficient. How to survive without technology or comforts." Fleeting images of his wand and Hogwarts came to his mind, but he willed them away. That was behind him. It was all behind him. Harry didn't have to be the Boy-Who-Lived anymore. He didn't need magic. He just needed himself. Well, himself and a bolt. He smirked.

"How to continue when you're abandoned. When those close to you give up. He taught me to be alone, and that it isn't such a bad thing. He told me his teacher was Porcupine. He helped me when I became crippled. He helped me adjust."

"He's done it wrong."

"What?"

...

"What did you say?"

"You didn't learn how to stalk. You learned wrong."

Harry didn't believe the Stalker. No matter how bluntly he put it. He wouldn't believe it. He'd put almost a year, if not a year into it all. He'd accept some lies from Strelok, but he wouldn't accept it _all_ being a lie. No. That was impossible. He wasn't crippled for nothing!

"I don't believe you."

"That's fine. I don't expect you to. It doesn't matter. We'll be here for awhile anyway. You're stuck here, buddy. Put everything else on hold."

"How long?"

"As long as it takes."

"Fine."

As long as it takes? How long would that be? Months? Years? Days? Hopefully not long. What would he be in for? What would the Stalker do? What all did Strelok did lie about? Did he tell any of the truth? Was Porcupine real?

What happened to Hermione? Was she okay? And Ron? It'd been so long...

Harry felt perturbed.

All of his friends, they could've used magic. They could've tried to keep contact. Any of them. Neville, Ron, Hermione, maybe even the Twins. But no, they gave him up.

He didn't need them. He only needed himself. Himself and a bolt.

...

Hermione was bored. The two of them went back to the UK and she had a lot of explaining to do. An irate Head of House waiting inside for her was certainly not an unexpected outcome, but definitely a dreaded one.

Having to fend off Professor McGonagall with terrible half-baked excuses would have to do for the moment. She had to adjust. To get settled back in. Especially after all of that craziness. She had school to finish, for Merlin's sake!

But it was over. Everything was done. He wouldn't be bothering her anymore, as he promised, and now she'll have to get back into the rhythm of magic.

The things that the man said stuck with her. She shouldn't _be_ dependent on magic all that much. Even so, she wasn't. She was a Muggleborn, not a Pureblood. Magic wasn't her life.

Sure, studies were. But they had to be! She needed academics. She was a minority in a vastly changing landscape that was mostly against her and her kind. Muggleborns were undervalued, and as such so were their work and their ethics. Why should they matter, if their blood is so weak?

So naturally, Hermione had to make up for her 'tainted blood' in knowledge. What better place to do it than at Hogwarts? At one of the top Wizarding schools in the world?

She had a good head start. Reading books and researching even before she got onto the train. But it went deeper than that. It always does. She needed more. She would always need more. Information is power. The more she had, the better off she was.

Those pesky stuck-up prats wouldn't bother her so much if they knew what she had up her sleeve! And not just in the world of magic.

WP had shown her a few things on their impromptu trip. A trip she very well despised, but a trip she couldn't say wasn't useful.

She would remember. Not that it would matter. She wouldn't be so deprived of her magic in the school. Off the grounds, maybe. But not here. It's a place for learning magic, with the use of magic. So naturally, she'll have to use magic. And perhaps, find something to mask the tone.

Some of the spells were Forbidden. They were difficult to get, too. But the librarian trusted her. Loathe as Hermione was to admit it, she misused her trust.

Citing a Professor and a Core subject class, she was able to get in and out quickly under her watchful eye, ironic as it was.

And now, practice. Practice makes perfect. You never knew when you might be up against the wall.

Swish, half-circle, point. Swish, half-circle, point.

She felt it again. It crept up her arm from her heart. It circled her entire being and shrouded her in warmth. She felt okay. Right. But that wasn't the right feeling for this spell. No! It won't work!

Fiddling with her wand, sparks flew as she pointlessly attempted anyway.

" _Laz!"_

A bolt of yellow light traveled out of the wooden stick with great ease, hitting the target broom with efficiency and accuracy. And then it fizzled out.

"Ugh." She groaned to herself. This would take a while.


End file.
